


If you come back here, please, don't run away.

by Myrsky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And memory recovery, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3533090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrsky/pseuds/Myrsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After bringing Steve to the shore at the end of their fight, Bucky flees from the scene and wipes every trace of his existence, hiding from everyone (and his own memories).</p>
<p>Steve does his best to find him, following him to the other side of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you come back here, please, don't run away.

After Bucky left the soldier at the shore of the river, he felt absolutely drained, weary like he never was before. That _had_ been a fight, something worthy of a creature like him. He could (should) be dead, but he isn't because the soldier hadn't killed him, and he feels like the debt to the soldier isn't paid. He had simply taken an unconscious body back to the land while the soldier had meet his eye, the eyes of the man who was actively trying to murder him, and _hadn't killed him_. He had spared his life, like none else would have done.

He decides to seek for the superior who had assigned him the mission. His house, the place where they had always meet, is completely empty, save for the corpse of the woman that the HYDRA leader killed remorselessly. There are no files or information around, nothing that could link this house or his owner to HYDRA, nothing even remotely useful. He has no doubts that if he escapes, HYDRA will chase after him, sooner or later, but he is also aware that he never had a better chance to run off... or a reason to do so.

Now it's different.

_Bucky._ Who is that man? Why is that name so familiar? Is that even a name?

He walks out of the house after raiding the closet for some disguise, a backpack and spares, any clothes that will fit him and allow him to blend into the city. After he leaves the house, he starts looking for the nearest source of information. It's easy enough to find a big billboard with the face of the soldier at the road leading to the city. The ad quickly fills him with more information that his mission ever did: Captain Steve Rogers, best known as Captain America. There is an exposition about him and his _Howling Commandos_ in one of the museums of the city, the Smithsonian. He could steal a vehicle, but ultimately decides against it and walks to the city, trying to stay away from the closed spaces and empty streets as the ability to move like a shadow depends entirely of the amount of people around you.

The streets next to the museum are filled with families and children, most of them with costumes of the Captain America. He enters the museum following a group, breaking apart from them as soon as they cross the door, walking into an exhibition room filled with videos, holograms and regular boards, apart from other props from the 40's. The first thing that catches his eye is the uniforms. The Captain's uniform is missing, he notices, but he already knew it. The uniform that the Captain was wearing when they fought was the original. He can feel that the one marked as _Bucky's_ is a reconstruction, the material is different from the one used in the rest of them.

He walks around the room until... he finds what he was looking for:

_Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, born in Brooklyn and raised at an orphanage where he met Captain Steve Rogers. When he was made a P.O.W. during the WWII, Captain Rogers went to his rescue on an one-man-mission. Captain Rogers came back with Bucky and around 400 soldiers who had been captured by the Nazis. He was a key point on the long range protection of the Howling Commandos and one of the highest ranked members. [...] Unfortunately, while attacking a train that was transporting material for HYDRA at the Alps, Bucky fell off from the train while protecting Captain America. Bucky was the only Howling Commando to give his life in service to his country._

His face while reading the board was sombre, as much as his mind while trying to understand how could this be him. He has no memories at all from that time but this man... _Steve_... makes his mind stir like it was trying to get something back.

 

* * *

 

After getting Bucky's file from Natasha, Sam and Steve started working on finding Bucky. Further investigation on HYDRA was completely blocked by S.H.I.E.L.D., making it difficult for them to follow any clue.

Bucky seemed to have banished after saving him at the river in Washington. Despite not knowing the city or the time, he seemed to have a talent at moving around undetected.

It wasn't until he heard about a stolen plane at the army that he realized that Bucky had flown to another country and that he had probably lost him forever, unless they were able to trace somehow the pieces of the plane at the black market.

That left him with only one option: talking to Natasha. Bucky would have flown to Europe and Natasha was the only one with connections in Europe that didn't include S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intel.

And, of course, it was Natasha who found Bucky at last. He had flown to Europe indeed, to the south of Germany, near the Alps where he had fallen. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, they should have known for sure that Bucky would have wanted to find the place where it all had started. Steve often wished Bucky didn't have any memory from that fall. It had been... way too traumatic. And knowing that Bucky had lost the arm at the fall.. it was all too hard.

The operation to rescue Bucky was quickly drawn. They had to fly to Europe, find him and bring him back to the States.

Steve quickly called Stark, asking for one plane as personal favour. Just for that trip. If they found Bucky, they could come back in a regular plane and if they didn't... well, they could also come back in a regular plane. Stark was quick to lend him the private jet and wish him luck, as soon as Steve mentioned that the trip couldn't be recorded and that it was against every order he had received from S.H.I.E.L.D.

While on plane, Natasha started planning the trip, booking three rooms under a false identity.

"Anastasia Nataliova?”

“Yes. All my other aliases might be known in the area.” her Russian accent was back.

“How many rooms?” Sam asks from the other side of the jet, playing with one of Stark's tablets.

“Three. I won't make you sleep together.” she says with a big grin.

“Any tip on where can we find him?”

“My informant said that the man with the metallic arm goes to the same bar every Tuesday night, the quietest night of the week. He speaks German perfectly but he never engages in conversation with the patrons. Despite of how much he drinks, he never gets drunk. A couple of weeks ago, a drunkard tried to hit him and with a single punch of the normal arm he threw the man to the other side of the room.”

“Bucky. Definitely.” Steve can't avoid smiling, he is so close to see him. At last.

“He might not remember you, Steve.” Sam feels the need to remind him, because he seems too overjoyed, too enthusiastic about it.

“I know. But we will get him back. I will get him back.”

 

* * *

 

When they arrived to the bar, but it was perhaps too early. Bucky hadn't arrived yet. The three of them sat at the bar, in a position where they could see the door easily. They waited, talking quietly between themselves for hours. After two hours, Sam and Natasha moved to the pool table, leaving Steve alone at the bar counter.

They came back and kept drinking, Steve more heavily than the others, trying to drown his sorrow even if he knew that he couldn't actually get drunk.

Time passed.

Bucky didn't show up that night. They stayed until the closing time waiting for any sign of him, with no avail.

“He must have seen us and decided to avoid the confrontation.” Sam says, finishing a last beer “PTSD sometimes act like that, they run away from the old friends because seeing them triggers them with some emotion.”

That's when Steve decided to talk with the bartender, asking him to pass a note for the man with the metallic arm.

_Please, Bucky. If you come back here, don't run away. I'll drop by everyday at 20.00 until next Tuesday, Tuesday included. Please, contact me._

_Steve R._

 

* * *

  
Bucky had flown to Germany right after visiting the Smithsonian. His mind was stirred enough, making him feel terribly uncomfortable by simply knowing that the Captain was present in the same city as he did. He is completely unworthy of the protection of that man.

He has killed and murdered too many (innocent?) people, becoming HYDRA's fist for the last 70 years. Captain America is pure, focusing all of his efforts in protecting what mattered to him. The world, his country, his friends.

The memories of the Captain, no, of Steve kept him going on, not allowing himself to get lost in the dark thoughts. For each murder, he also had a moment with Steve, rescuing someone else at the war or simply protecting Steve from all the jerks who wanted to hit his sweet boy. The small, lovely boy that was something deeper than a brother for him. The source of all the love he was able to produce.

He broke into an empty house, using it but never taking anything. He got himself a work, acting as a Russian illegal immigrant. It was easy enough, and even if he didn't have much money it was enough to buy basic food and get himself a night out. Every Tuesday, he visited a bar next to the house to unwind from everything.

At least until he approached the bar and saw Steve behind the door. Then he fled with a thought of never coming back there.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday passed without news. So did Thursday.

 

* * *

  
Next Friday was their lucky day. When they entered the bar, the bartender told Steve that his note had been taken in the morning. Not even 15 minutes after 20.00, Bucky appeared at the door, a cap shadowing his face, a black shirt and slack pants. Nothing too fancy and nothing distinctive, but Steve could recognize Bucky anywhere.

He quickly walked to the table where Sam, Natasha and Steve were sitting.

“Got your note, punk. You should know better than leaving me things with strangers.”

Steve laughed, looking at Bucky's face, trying to drink the sight of the man in front of him, his heart fluttering “Well, it worked fine this time. I missed you.”

“Me too.” Bucky paused, tapping his fingers to the table “Aren't you going to introduce me to your companions?”

“Oh, sure. Sam Wilson and Nat.”

Bucky shook Sam's hand and kissed Natasha's. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir and Ma'am.”

After about half an hour after having found Bucky in the bar, Sam and Natasha left them alone, as it was clear that Bucky was back and meant no harm at all. Bucky and Steve deserved some time on their own, some time to talk about the old and new times. The chat between the four of them had been about The Avengers and the Invasion of the Chitauri, both events that Bucky had missed while being in cryogenics during that time.

With Sam and Natasha gone, Bucky and Steve remained in silence for a while, Steve staring Bucky still in awe and Bucky lost in his own thoughts.

“How long has it been? Since you woke up?” Bucky says at last, curiousness projecting into his voice, making it sound like they were in the 40's again and this was their regular Friday's night outing.

“Bit more than a couple of years. You?”

“I don't know. I have been in and out for so long. Sometimes it seemed like the time hadn't changed at all, then one day I woke up and the world had changed. And since then, each time that I woke up, I understood less and less. Sticking to the orders, coming back, going back to sleep.”

“I still can't understand most of the future. Stark has been trying to show me how some things work, but I'm not sure if he is helping or purposely tripping my advances.” Steve grins, nursing a beer.

“Stark? Howard? The old man is still alive?”

“No. He died. It's Tony, his son. He is the Iron Man we mentioned earlier. Unruly, undutiful and reckless but undeniably useful. Also, he's a good man, once you go through all his... showmanship.”

“Like father, like son.” Bucky smiled, even if that gesture was slowly replaced by a scowl “How much I hated Stark when we met him. He treated us all like we didn't deserve to carry your shield, much less share a name and a purpose with Captain America.”

“You weren't his creations .” Steve's voice was suddenly thoughtful “That was the only reason he treated me any better. He thought that I, somehow, belonged to him.”

“No, you didn't. Do you, now?”

“What?” Steve said, a confused frown on his face.

"Belonging. Tell me it's not the redhead, tell me you ain't dating her, punk.” Bucky chuckled, patting Steve's shoulder before grabbing another beer from the bar.

“No!!!” Steve's face was completely red now, flushed to the tip of his ears. Natasha was seeing someone, definitely not Steve.

“Ohhh, such a reaction.” Another chuckle from Bucky “Either you are mad for her, or she is completely off-limits. Which one it is?”

“Off-limits, off-limits! She's seeing someone, someone who is not me!”

That is what converts Bucky's chuckle into a full laugh, bumping Steve's shoulder before keep drinking. “Still the gentleman, I see.”

“Oh, Buck. She's the scariest woman ever. You wouldn't dare to cross her.” Steve says, a smile on his lips. Despite of how dangerous she is, she loves Natasha as the sister he never had.

“Worse than agent Carter? What was her name... Peggy?” Bucky talks slowly, the memories flowing into his brain but not quite unscathed.

Steve sighs lightly before grabbing the neck of his bottle and taking a sip of the beer “Peggy... no, I... Natasha isn't scarier than Peggy. Never let Natasha hear that, though, or she'll murder us both.”

“Women.” Bucky says with a small sigh, some humour filtering through the noise “I am glad they are more like Peggy nowadays. Scary women are good for you, punk.”

Steve breaks out laughing, ordering more beer for both. Not like they can get drunk, so they might as well enjoy the moment.

 

* * *

 

“Let me walk you to your hotel, punk.” Bucky says after a few more beers, completely thrown back into their past memories, into the time where he had to protect Steve because every time that he left Steve on his own, even for five minutes, he'd have to come back to rescue him from whoever had offended his sense of righteousness, something both amazing and horrific, amazing because Steve's view of the world was pure, with some touches of naïveness and horrific because it always faced him with brutes who could destroy him with a single punch.

“It's alright, Buck. I can go on my own.”

"I insist. Please." Bucky answers, throwing his normal arm over Steve's shoulders and poking him into movement, a bright smile on his face. Bucky's smile, a gesture that he hadn't used since he had fallen from that train in the Alps.

That smile was what convinced Steve. Allow Bucky to take him back to his hotel room, allow him to enjoy what they had before. He had always taken care of him... and if he wanted to do it, Steve didn't have any problem with being pampered by Bucky.

“Okay, Buck. Let's go.” Steve says with a smile of his own, as bright as it had always been when it was the two of them alone anywhere.

 

* * *

 

“Crashing with your mates or can we take a last drink at your place?” Buck asks, when they arrive to the door, leaning on his arm next to the frame watching Steve pulling his card from his jeans' pocket.

“All alone, come in.” Steve beckons him inside as he opens the door, showing a simple room with a king size bed. He quickly goes to the fridge under the TV, picking two beers and passing one to Bucky, while sitting on one of the chairs and throwing his jacket over the back of it.

Bucky grins at the sight of the bed, taking off his jacket before taking the bottle of beer that Steve offers him, sitting on the TV counter in front of Steve's chair “Punk, any plans to fill that bed with someone?”

“No. Not really. Natasha booked three rooms that were spacious enough in the case the three of us had to crash together.”

Bucky jumps down to the floor and moves to the bed, sitting there and crossing his legs on a yogi position at the feet of the bed. “Comfy.” he says, bouncing lightly. As Steve says nothing, his eyes fixed on Bucky, he adds with a grin “And quiet. Good characteristics for a bed.”

Steve laughs, going to sit on the bed next to Bucky and resting his head on his shoulder. “God, Bucky. It's like we are back home. Remember the times we slept together? The beds were nothing like this, then.”

“Yes, Steve. I remember.” Bucky caresses Steve's hair, his fingers raking through the scalp. “Fondly, even if there was nothing good then. But, at least, I had you.”

Steve tilts his head to smile at Bucky “We have each other. Always.”

Bucky's hand goes down from Steve's hair to his cheek, cupping it with just a touch of fingertips. Steve's blue eyes seem to shine when he looks into them, his gaze asking for permission to do this, to lean in and kiss him like he never kissed him before. And so he does, closing his eyes before brushing his lips against Steve's, so soft, so warm, the taste of the beer lingering on them as the tip of his tongue runs over them, asking for permission to enter the mouth that he dreamt for years. Steve opens his mouth as soon as Bucky does so, allowing him to deepen the kiss, tongue invading and fighting for dominance.

Steve's eyes open slightly when Bucky pulls back, his hand still cupping his face tenderly, his own hands moving to Bucky's shoulders as he presses himself against Bucky's chest, straddling his lap, while Bucky's other hand, the metallic one, find the small of his back, drawing circles with his thumb over the t-shirt, not quite decided to slide his hands under the hem.

“Bucky...”

“Steve...” he kisses Steve's lips again and again, small kisses of pure joy just by being able to kiss the man that he always loved and cherished.

Steve's right hand goes down, caressing Bucky's side over the shirt, his fingers finding and caressing the bumps of his ribs and the hard defined abs before coming to rest on Bucky's hip. “I always wanted to do this, Buck.” Steve says between kisses, his breath heaving “Always.”

“You brought my memories back, punk. If that's not unconditional love, I don't know what it is.” Bucky finally slides his hand under the hem of Steve's t-shirt, pulling it over his head before kissing him deeply again. Steve's deft fingers dealing with the buttons of Bucky's shirt, even if his hands curl into fists when Bucky's tongue brushes against the roof of his mouth, sending shivers down his spine. The last two buttons are snapped open when Bucky cups his head again, his fingers into Steve's short hair, making Steve groan into the kiss.

Bucky shifts his hips, throwing Steve back onto the mattress, standing on his knees between Steve's legs and throwing his shirt to the floor. His normal hand slides over Steve's broad chest, fingers drawing invisible lines on his skin, his metallic arm supporting the weight of his body next to Steve's head, leaning down to kiss him yet again.

Steve's hands caress Bucky's back, fingers mapping his spine, dipping on the dimples at his waist and trying to press him closer over him, trying to coerce him to lay over his chest. Bucky obliges with a husky chuckle, Steve is way too strong for him to resist, even when he's exerting that force unconsciously. Bucky pats Steve's ass over the jeans, fondling the cheek before pulling back with a stroke to Steve's thigh. “Take them off, punk.”

Steve's hands run to unbutton them, taking the off quickly, tilting his hips enough to slide them down as Bucky also takes his own pants down, brushing his hardness against Bucky's hip and groaning with excitement.

“Damn, Bucky, I don't have anything... to... for sex, here.” Steve's cheeks get faintly pink again, blushing even if his blood is all going south.

“Hush, Steve...” Bucky whispers against Steve's lips, kissing him again “We don't have to do everything today.” Bucky slides down on Steve, kissing his jaw, nibbling carefully and delicately the bone; sucking on his neck hard enough to leave bruises even if they will be gone by the morning, making Steve moan and grab Bucky's neck trying to hold him in place but failing to do so as Bucky shakes his head, biting lightly Steve's wrist.

He keeps going down, lapping at Steve's nipples, using his tongue until they are completely perky and responsive, making him moan and twitch his hips every time that the tongue touches him, dying to get a little bit of friction on his groin.

"Patience, punk.” Bucky says, biting the nipple in front of him, landing his metallic hand on the side of Steve's hip to hold him in place.

“Easy... for you... to say...” Steve moans, his hips jerking so lightly, trying to move Bucky's hand to the place where he needs it the most.

Bucky simply rolls his hips against Steve's thigh, letting him feel how excited he is, as much as Steve is. Kissing and touching the skin that had been forbidden fruit for years is something exquisite and something that he wants to enjoy thoroughly, not wanting to simply fuck Steve. He wants to worship the body, to touch and lick and kiss every centimetre of skin. So he resumes moving, leaving the nipples and nibbling the stomach and the abs, stopping to kiss and nuzzle the belly button, his tongue brushing on the golden trail treasure leading to the boxers that still cover Steve's nakedness.

“What are you... doing?” Steve asked, while placing a hand over Bucky's head, tugging his hair lightly while Bucky kneels on the floor between Steve's legs.

He hooks his fingers on the elastic of Steve's boxers, not pulling them down yet, open-mouthedly kissing the hard shape of his member. “What do you think I am doing, Steve?” he licks his lips before pulling the boxers down, enjoying the bounce of the heavy member to lay on Steve's stomach. “What does it look like?” his hands come to grab Steve's hips again, his mouth slowly lowering to kiss the crown, his tongue lapping at the head, making Steve hiss in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, Buck.” Steve's hand was frozen into his hair, fingers tangling into his hair.

Bucky grins brightly, lowering his head to take Steve further into his mouth, tongue swirling around his shaft and applying pressure to the vein. He moves his fleshy hand to the base of Steve's shaft, jerking him slowly following the movement of his mouth. He is basically applying everything he ever liked in a blowjob to please Steve, enjoying the way he squirms under his mouth, his hips shaking and jerking lightly under his head.

He bobs his head up and down, taking him inch by inch into his mouth, taking until his mouth is completely filled and opening his throat for Steve to fuck him, releasing Steve's hand to sneak his hand down into himself pulling down his boxers to start jerking himself.

Steve's hands now hold Bucky's head, keeping him still while he starts fucking his mouth, hard and fast, cutting his breath to short gasps whenever Steve pulls back, both of them moaning, Steve really loud and Bucky's moans silenced by Steve's dick.

Steve is the first to come, a hot spurt hitting Bucky's throat, making him shallow it all if he doesn't want to choke. Bucky comes with a groan, right after releasing Steve's member with a wet pop, his seed spreading on the floor.

“Jesus, punk, next time pull my hair or something.” Bucky says with a grin, kissing the inside of Steve's thigh.

Steve simply groans, caressing Bucky's scalp, patting him to come to bed again. Bucky climbs to the bed, manhandling Steve under a blanket and hugging his chest, his head resting over Steve's shoulder.

Steve looks down at him, kissing his lips, his own arms wrapping around Bucky.

"I love you, Buck.” is the first thing he says when he finds his voice again.

"Yes, I know. I love you too.”

"Come back home. With me.”

"I will never leave you, Steve. Not again.”


End file.
